What REALLY got Draco on the Quidditch team
by May La Nee
Summary: I hate myself for doing this to Draco. He's 12 years old and it's just revolting what some people do to get their rocks off... RATED M I WARNED YOU


**I hate myself for this fic.**

**But unfortunately enough, I think this is how it happened with 'my' version of Draco anyway so … yeah… er… It's not written to be sexy and I KNOW it's awful. I just figured it's good to share what I think is part of his life story.**

"Jerms?" the boy looked up from the bench he was sitting on when Marcus Flint said his name, "Jeremy, you're still on the team."

Draco froze up; Flint never told him he was declined! "If you would have allowed to me try out on my _own_ broom I would have-"  
"I want to test _you_, not your broom."  
Flint took off his shirt. It had been quite hot outside, and he had been standing in the sun the entire time.  
Draco hadn't really been sweating. Flying had allowed the wind to cool him down, but now he wasn't good enough he was starting to break a sweat of panic.

Jeremy grinned broadly and left the changing room.

"But the school brooms all have flaws! Mine kept turning to the right, I can't help that!"  
"I want a good _Seeker_ on my team, not a good broomstick. Broomsticks are great but in the end, it's the player that makes it work. And if the player is rubbish it's just not going to work, is it?" Flint sat down to take off his shoes.

Draco didn't reply and didn't move. Flint looked up at him.  
"You're not going to cry, are you?"  
Draco was shaking and he pressed his lips together tightly. He shook his head, but it looked more like a twitch.

"Maybe next time."  
"_NO!_" the sound was so unexpected it startled the Quidditch captain. "I _need _to get on the team _now_!"  
"That's what they all say," Flint replied, but he looked at Draco as if he was considering something.  
"I need it more," Draco stated. He seemed convinced of his own words, and he almost seemed to calm down a little bit; "I'll do anything. Please?"

That seemed to catch Flint's attention; "Anything?"  
Draco nodded. He was blushing –obviously he didn't make a good loser. That was all right though; Slytherins generally weren't meant to lose.  
"How about we er… How about you do me a favour?" Flint said as he threw his socks in the general direction of his shoes.  
Draco looked at him; "If it gets me on the team I will."

Marcus Flint smiled his horse teeth bare at the blonde twelve-year-old, and got up from the bench. "If you do me this favour... and you do it right,… you're on the team."  
Draco nearly gasped for breath and nodded; "I will! What do you need me to do?"

"Give me your hand," Flint said, and offered Draco his hand. Draco raised a brow; the last time he held hands with anyone he was about five or so. He didn't question the other boy though, as he gave him his hand and allowed him to guide him to the showers.

"It's your dream to get on the team, isn't it?" Flint asked as he put the showers on.  
Draco raised a shoulder and watched Flint put his pants and boxers off, too. He was now entirely naked.  
"It's my Father's dream, really... He has a lot of dreams for me. This one I can actually-…"  
"Nice." Flint turned around and grinned at Draco again. "My dream is er… slightly different." Draco raised a brow; he wanted a shower? A supervised shower? That was a… a pathetic dream, really.

"Take off your clothes," Flint commanded quite unexpectedly.  
"Is that your dream?"  
"Part of it…"  
Draco took off his shirt.  
"Come on, all of them."

Draco didn't like how his clothes were in a sloppy pile on the dirty looking floor, but he didn't want to waste time. He just wanted to get over with whatever it was he was supposed to do, so he could write to his Father that he made it on the team!

This felt odd though; he wasn't used to being naked in company. It was especially weird because Flint was naked too.  
Sure, he had seen other people naked before, in the showers in the dorms. But then they weren't there for the sake of being naked; then they were there to shower! Most of the time Draco was half asleep by the time he got there anyway so he couldn't be bothered by it.

This was different though. Flint was looking at him weird and his…penis was growing hard.

Draco had woken up like that sometimes, but he hadn't ever seen anyone else like that. Especially not naked. And not with that much hair down there either.

"Get in the shower," Flint said, as he stepped back to get under the water.  
"Will this _really_ get me on the team?"  
Flint nodded slightly impatiently, before grinning his horse teeth bare again.  
"Yeah… now come here."

Draco stepped under the showers, not sure where to put his hands. He didn't feel safe at all, but his Father clearly told him that he should never use his arms or hands to hide because it would make him look insecure. Insecure people make an easy victim, confident people rarely become a victim at all. So Draco let his hands hang down uselessly.

Flint took Draco's arm in a restrained but calm manner, and pulled him a bit closer. Draco seemed about to say something, but Flint quickly said; "So you do this thing for me, and then you're the new Seeker! All right?"

Draco nodded. He considered the situation very awkward and uncomfortable, but sometimes you had to sacrifice to get what you want. This was one of those times.

"Sit on your knees."

Draco looked at the floor. It was absolutely disgusting, with some dry blood near the wall and some unidentified goo near the drain. This wasn't a time to behave spoiled though, so Draco obeyed.  
Flint's penis was very close to his face now, and it still seemed to be getting harder.

"Take it in your mouth."  
Draco flared his nostrils.  
"Come on," Flint laughed nervously, with some sort of urgency in his voice, "We're helping each other make a dream come true, right?"  
Without a warning his tone changed; "You want to be on the team or what?"

Draco looked down and nodded.

"No teeth," Flint stated.

Reluctantly Draco opened his mouth a bit, and Flint guided his penis in.

It tasted gross. The water that came in his mouth first just tasted of water, but Flint's hard penis tasted of something like sweaty liverwurst and it was disgusting.

Draco did as he was told though, and before he had a chance to gag because of the flavour, Flint thrust in Draco's mouth so deeply it made him gag again.  
He wanted to spit it out but Flint wouldn't let him; he put a hand against the back of Draco's head.  
Draco was still gagging and Flint moaned at every movement of the back of Draco's throat.

The older boy then pulled out a bit and Draco thought it was over, but just as he could feel the contents of his stomach come up Flint thrust back in his mouth. Not just once; repeatedly.

Draco tried to protest but he couldn't speak, and apparently the sound or feeling of his voice was doing Flint a lot of pleasure.

When it was becoming difficult to breath Draco tried to push Flint away with his hands. Breathing heavily and looking like he was restraining himself, Flint looked down and let go.  
Draco shot backwards and saw a glimpse of white moist on the other boy's penis before he turned around to puke in the drain.

"Real men can take it," Flint said accusingly, clearly disgusted by Draco's stomach contents.

Draco felt weak and he had the worst flavour in his mouth, but he stood up from the disgusting floor anyway. He didn't want to get an infection or anything.

Had he just… He had, right? He ruined Flint's dream and now Flint wouldn't let him on the team. He got a second chance and he just… He _couldn't_ ruin it!

"I've got a better idea," Flint said. His hand was around his penis. Draco felt ashamed to see it; that's _not_ something you do in company!  
"We could erm…" Flint continued. He was breathing very heavily still, and he moaned when he wasn't talking.

Draco pressed his lips together. Part of him wondered whatever Flint was up to was even worth getting on the team. But then he remembered his Father's face when he told him Slytherin didn't win the House Cup last year. And that his grades weren't the best either. The best in Slytherin; yes. But that Muggleborn girl -his Father called her a Mudblood- had gotten better grades than him on most subjects.  
Father had been very disappointed.  
"Well, at least you can still make it to the Quidditch team."  
That's what he said then… Draco couldn't fail that _too_! He felt bad enough failing the other goals his Father set for him.  
So he _wasn't_ going to fail this. He was going to do exactly what was needed to get on the bloody team, even if it'd cost him a limb.

So when Flint stroked his fingers over Draco's chest, down to his groin, he didn't object. He just imagined it was more water going down. Solid water. Nothing special.  
Draco closed his eyes and looked up at the plain ceiling. The steam looked like clouds; that's right. He was flying now. Nothing wrong with that.

He shut his eyes tightly when Flint's fingers touched his groin, and he stood still as a statue. That was quite nice actually… _that_ was a little sensitive, but…Yeah… He noticed he himself was breathing more heavily now too, and when he felt Flint's hand around his... business…. he nearly moaned.

Flint then slowly moved his hand off Draco's privates without loosening his grip, and a moan escaped from Draco's lips. "You like that, huh?" Flint asked in a low voice, and Draco nodded hesitantly. It still felt wrong.  
Flint then took Draco's shoulder; "Stand with your face against the wall."

Draco obeyed.

"You're built like a Seeker though, you know that? Bend over a bit…No- move your legs back an inch." Flint was still breathing heavily, "Yeah, like that…"  
Draco could feel the other's hands move over his sides, over his bottom and then up his back. This felt quite nice actually. Especially with the water still pouring over him.

Flint stood very close to Draco now, so close he could feel the older boy's penis against his bottom. His breathing became even deeper and before Draco could ask if this would _really_ get him on the team again, Flint pushed in.

Draco set his hands against the wall as he felt Flint hands grab his sides, and couldn't help but cry out.

It _hurt_!

_Gods_ it hurt so bad!

He could tell his body wasn't made for this; every cell of his being screamed it wanted the intruder out. Flint didn't seem to care much, and if he did he was hiding it very well.  
"Shut up," he whispered –or moaned in Draco's ear, and Draco shut up.  
There was still sound coming from his throat but he couldn't control it.

Flint pushed in really deep and just when Draco thought his body would tear open, Flint pull out a bit. Not entirely, but enough to make the tears in Draco's eyes stop from welling up.

And then he pushed in again.

After about five thrusts Draco begged the other to stop.  
As a reply one of Flint's hands released one of Draco's bruised side and moved to Draco's belly instead. With all the willpower he had Draco focussed on that hand. It still felt nice and tingly.

He moved one of his own hands down to put it over that hand to keep it in place. If this had to happen, it had to be with that hand there!

His bottom still hurt _so_ bad though, and Draco moaned in pain again. As if it was a cue Flint's hand moved down Draco's belly.  
Flint's own moans were increasing in volume and in pace.  
The thrusts were too. It kind of made Draco have to pee, as if every thrust was cushioned by his bladder.

So again, with all his might, he focussed on the hand that moved down lower and lower. Then it was touching his privates again, immediately in the way that made Draco moan before. Caught by surprise by this Draco's legs turned to jelly, and his hand slid away so he was now leaning against the wall with his elbow and his forehead.  
His other hand was ensuring Flint's hand wasn't going anywhere.  
Because of this sudden movement something changed.  
Instead of feeling like Flints thrusts were pounding on his bladder, they were now pounding on a spot that made it feel like pure bliss.

Flint, who had been breathing in Draco's ear the entire time, seemed to be breathing even heavier now, and 'hid' his face in Draco's wet hair. He then moaned, louder and deeper than before, and Draco could feel him release exactly on _that_ spot.

Flint tried to thrust one more time but it seemed his legs turned to jelly too. Draco didn't mind; Feeling the other release there, and then that _hand_…. He was short of breath and when Flint's grip on his side loosened he could feel his sac tighten.

He held Flint's hand tighter to keep it where it was and moaned one last time before releasing against the wall.  
Flint was breathing heavily down his neck, and Draco could feel his heartbeat where Flint was inside of him. It was still painful but he was so relaxed now it didn't seem to matter.

"Congrats…" Flint sighed in his ear without using his voice. He sounded right exhausted. "On being… the new Seeker..."

* * *

_Draco,_

_I should hope that a Malfoy would have the ability to make it onto the house__ Quidditch team. At least you were successful. I can't imagine the embarrassment if you had been rejected.  
We're pleased __ you didn't let your talent go to waste like you did before on several occasions. Your Mother is proud of you. _

_To add to the celebrations, I bought new broomsticks for the entire team.  
If you are indeed the worthy player you just proved to be, there is nothing that can stand between you and the victory of your house now._

_Enjoy!_

_Sincerely yours,_

_Lucius Malfoy_


End file.
